


A Night to Remember

by Cecils_Third_Eye



Series: A Walk to Remember [1]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Gaston (Disney), Body Image, Body Worship, Canon Gay Character, Chubby LeFou, Daddy!Gaston (Disney), Established Relationship, Healthy Relationships, Insecure LeFou, M/M, Nervousness, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Weddings, body image issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecils_Third_Eye/pseuds/Cecils_Third_Eye
Summary: It's Gaston and LeFou's wedding day... Gaston is having an exisential crisis about the impending end of his bachelorhood, LeFou is fretting over a last minute decision that might ruin everything... and Stanley, LeFou's ex-boyfriend and renowned wedding planner, just wants this bloody awful day to finally be over.





	

“Well, kiddo,” Gaston adjusted his bowtie in the mirror, his smile just as crooked as the offensive black silk cloth that wouldn’t… stay… _still_. “How does your old man look?”

Green eyes looked him over in careful consideration, before she nodded and smiled, “You’re the handsomest, Daddy.”

Gaston nodded confidently, “Of course I already knew _that_.” He ran a massive hand over his gel-slicked hair, “I’m the most attractive man that I know.”

Angel rolled her eyes, “Except for Papa, right?”

Gaston seemed to consider this for a moment, face scrunched in discomfort as if admitting that _anyone_ – even the _love of his life_ – were more attractive than him caused him physical _pain_. Finally, he conceded, “Except for LeFou.”

“How do I look, Daddy?” Angel asked, unceremoniously shoving herself in front of Gaston to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the floor-length mirror. Gaston laughed and shuffled over to the side, letting her have her space.

“Beautiful, sweetheart.” He brushed a stray ebony tendril behind her ear, before adjusting the glittering tiara atop her head. “Just like a princess.”

It hadn’t been a difficult decision for Gaston to ask his daughter to be his Best Girl at his wedding. While he was far from lacking in the friend department, when it came down to who he wanted to stand beside him while he took the biggest leap of faith a man could in his lifetime, well… Those friends were rather more like acquaintances. None of them really fit the bill.

But Angel… she’d been the most important factor in this from Day One. If she hadn’t of taken to LeFou like she had, well, he certainly wouldn’t be preparing to walk down the aisle and take the shorter man as his husband. It had been Angel that had encouraged him to pop the question… that had helped him to purchase the ring…

She loved LeFou almost as much as Gaston himself, and he wanted her to have a very special part in the day that would change both their lives and their little family forever. And Angel was more than happy to be there for him.

“And Aileas? What about her?” She continued, drawing Gaston out of his reflection. She was holding up her American Girl doll for her father’s stamp of approval. They wore matching green dresses and white Mary-Janes.

“She looks lovely as well.” Gaston assured her, earning a bright smile from the six-year-old.

Distantly, he could hear the organist begin to play. The guests must’ve started to file in and settle in their seats, then. A quick glance at his watch confirmed that there were about twenty minutes till show time. Twenty minutes until he promised himself to another for a lifetime. Twenty minutes until he could no longer call himself the most eligible bachelor in Villeneuve…

 “You’re not getting nervous, are you, Daddy?” Angel asked sweetly, her dark brows knitted in concern.

Gaston hurriedly shook his head, swallowing audibly. “No, of course not! What on earth would make you think something so ludicrous? Me? _Nervous_? Those two words should never appear in the same sentence.”

“Okay.” She conceded easily, not wanting to pressure him further and _really_ cause him to snap. “It’s just that you’re sweating. Like… _a lot_. But if that’s totally normal, then please, carry on.”

Not for the first time, Gaston wished that LeFou had one – just _one_ – traditional bone in his body and had opted for black suits instead of ivory. Quickly, he slipped off the jacket before he could sweat through it. “It’s not… It’s not _that_ bad.”

“Your entire back is soaked through, Daddy.” She stated, matter-of-fact.

Gaston was quick to confirm this in the mirror. “Goddamn it!”

“That’s seventy-five cents to the swear jar, Daddy.”

He almost cursed again, but was quick to reel it back in. At this rate, his daughter was bound to be a millionaire before her tenth birthday. Curse LeFou and his brilliant, albeit costly, ideas.

He had to undo his tie, much to his chagrin, in order to remove the silk button down that clung to him like a second skin. With a little more force than necessary, he tossed it over the heater in an effort to make it dry faster. In the meantime, he paced the small Sunday School classroom, working through the breathing exercises the trainers encouraged during physical therapy for sports related injuries. He’d certainly had enough injuries in his day to remember a few of the tips.

What was weird was that it _wasn’t_ cold feet. He didn’t want to run _away_ from the altar at all – if anything, he wanted to run _toward_ it. He wanted to be married to LeFou so badly that the wedding should have been _yesterday_. So what was he afraid of? That LeFou would leave him at the altar? That he would suddenly realize he deserved so much better?

Okay, that one struck a nerve. He winced, remembering LeFou’s boyfriend prior to Gaston. They had parted on amiable terms and were still close friends, and he and Gaston had met on several occasions. Dating or no, he still held LeFou on this pedestal of untouchable perfection and Gaston, well… he and LeFou had their ups and downs, to put it mildly.

He was about to spiral deeper into his cesspool of depressing thoughts when a sudden shock of icy cold water splashed over his exposed skin. He yelped – an incredibly unmanly sound that he would never admit to after the fact – and turned to Angelique, who was sipping from her tumbler of ice water and blinking at him with wide, innocent green eyes.

“Did you just… _douse_ me in water?” He asked, unable to keep the astonishment from his voice. Angel recapped her bottle, heaved a dramatic sigh, and nodded resolutely.

“You were getting all mopey. I wanted to snap you out of it.” She said. “It’s supposed to be a happy day! Don’t be sad!”

Gaston’s shoulders slumped, “What if I’m not the right person for him? I mean, he deserves better than -,”

“Who could _possibly_ be better than us?” She cut in, as if the very idea was offensive. “I mean, is there a prettier Daddy-Daughter duo out there? I think not.” She said firmly, continuing, “Who fixes my Barbie dolls when their heads come popping off?”

Gaston shrugged, “I do. But I don’t see how that’s -,”

Angel continued, speaking right over him, “Who does my hair all pretty every morning?”

“I do.” Gaston confirmed, “But really, that’s just a labor of -,”

“Who still carries me around when my tummy hurts, even though he says that I’m too big to be carried?”

Gaston’s expression softened when he realized what it was she was trying to do, “Kiddo, that’s my job as your old man.”

“It might be your job,” she said with a noncommittal shrug, “but nobody does it better than you!”

His daughter’s abounding confidence in him was… refreshing, to say the least. And it was just the boost that his confidence so desperately needed. In several quick strides, he approached the radiator, snatching up his now-dry shirt and slipping it back on. Angel, ever the dutiful Best Girl, swooped in and tied his bowtie for him, and then adjusted his tuxedo jacket.

“Still the handsomest Daddy ever?” He asked with a wink.

“Always.” She lauded with an answering grin. “Now get out there and marry Papa!”

\--

**MEANWHILE**

\--

“Why on _earth_ did I choose _white_? White has to be the absolute _least_ slimming color _imaginable_!” LeFou groaned, standing sideways in front of the mirror and angsting over the way the tuxedo stretched over his belly.

“You look wonderful, love. Just like always.” Belle crooned, planting a soft kiss on her friend’s cheek.

Stanley frowned, “Don’t be leaving lipstick smudges on the bride-to-be’s cheek! What will the groom think?”

“That the maid of honor gave her best friend a good luck kiss?” Belle quipped, one dark eyebrow raised.

LeFou had been fretting for the last twenty-four hours about his impending nuptials, not unlike his soon-to-be husband. But where Gaston was concerned that LeFou would suddenly come to the conclusion that he could do better and would ultimately leave him at the altar, LeFou’s concerns had to do with a tiny velvet box in his left pocket.

It was a last minute idea that had come to him when he and Angelique were at the mall, shopping for Gaston’s Christmas present. They’d stopped in a jewelry store, as LeFou remembered Gaston lamenting breaking his favorite silver necklace just a few weeks earlier. His fiancé had panicked, as he kept his ring on the necklace for safe keeping while at work, and when the chain had snapped he’d been unable to locate the ring for several hours.

While in the store, Angel had stumbled upon a child-sized rose gold over sterling silver necklace, with a rose gold infinity pendant. The pendant shimmered with .10 karat of diamonds. It was beautiful, and she’d quickly waved LeFou over to show him her find. He’d gently reminded her that they were shopping for her father, and that diamonds were very expensive, especially to give to a child that was that young. She’d seemed saddened, momentarily, but had been easily distracted with the promise of ice cream.

What she didn’t know was that, one week later, LeFou had returned to the store and purchased the necklace for her as a special surprise to be unveiled during the wedding. It was just now occurring to him that he probably should’ve run the idea by Gaston before running headfirst into a situation that could just as easily dissolve into flames as it could end happily ever after.

“…besides, I think it would be more suspicious that the ex-boyfriend is _planning the wedding_ than the happily married maid of honor kissing the cheek of her gay best friend.” Belle said.

LeFou turned to Stanley, whose face was turning a very interesting shade of red. “I am a _professional_ , madam. I do not let potential conflicts of interest interfere with my work -,”

“You’ve done a _wonderful_ job with everything, sweetheart.” LeFou was quick to attempt to placate his friend. “I couldn’t have asked for a better wedding planner.”

Stanley seemed to blossom under the praise, “What can I say? I’m extremely talented at what I do.”

“And to do it all for _free_ -,”

Belle frowned, “And you didn’t find that the least bit suspicious?”

Stanley visibly deflated, “Look – I don’t know what kind of fool you take me for, but if I still had feelings for LeFou I _certainly_ would not have planned a wedding of this caliber – the wedding of my _best friend’s_ dreams – and simply stood aside and let him be.”

LeFou sighed, “I love you both. Really, I do. But I’m not trying to witness a cat fight on my goddamn wedding day, okay? It’s just not going to happen.” He forced a shaky smile.

“Oh, no no no… no tears for the bride. You’re going to ruin all your beautiful make up!” Stanley cried.

“I-I-I just want everyone to be _happy_ and to get _along_ a-and…” Stanley blotted his eyes, trying to catch the majority of the mascara before it began to run and completely ruined his foundation.

He slumped down onto one of the tables that lined the church’s nursery, crying harder at the uneasy groan it gave off as it struggled beneath his weight. After several more moments of intense sobbing, Stanley abandoned his post with a huff, deeming it to be a lost cause. At this point, he was only smearing the make-up around and making it worse…

With a sigh, Belle adjusted her dress and took a seat beside LeFou on the table, wincing a little as it let out another groan. Really, such a table was better suited to children’s blocks or pop-out puzzles where children matched the picture on the puzzle piece to the picture on the board…

“What is the _real_ problem, LeFou?” She asked, gently. “You know that Stanley and I don’t mean anything by our teasing. I don’t understand why it would upset you so much.”

LeFou sniffled, burying his face in his hands, “I don’t want to get married!” He mumbled, his voice almost completely muffled.

“Come again?” Belle asked, prying one of his hands away from his mouth so that she could hear him properly this time.

“I don’t want to get married.” He repeated once more, with slightly less conviction.

And that was when Stanley _really_ hit the roof. “Oh, no. Oh, _hell_ no. We did not just go through five painstaking months planning out your ideal wedding for you to decide that you’re going to get cold feet ten minutes before you’re set to go out there.”

“But what if this _isn’t_ what I want?” LeFou cried. “What if Gaston decides that he wants someone more attractive, someone thinner that doesn’t look like a fucking stuck _pig_ in their wedding clothes?”

“That sounds like you’re putting words into Gaston’s mouth.” Belle said, “And while it’s often difficult to ascertain whether that brain of his is actually functioning at all, I can tell you for certain that he loves you more than life itself – curves and all.”

But LeFou merely continued, undeterred, “And what if Angelique decides that she doesn’t want me to be her Papa? What if she rejects me?”

Stanley sighed, “You’ve been part of that girl’s life since before she could walk. If she was gonna reject you, I think that she would’ve done it by now.”

“And you still have yet to tell us why you feel this way.” Belle said, “Why did you suddenly change your mind about marrying Gaston?”

“I don’t… I-I don’t know, I just…”

He pulled the box out of his pocket, before cracking it open and gently running a finger over the jeweled surface. It was truly a fine piece of craftsmanship and he had no doubt that their little girl would look beautiful in it.

But then… he thought of the potential fights they’d have. He wasn’t her biological parent, what would he know about how to raise her properly? Gaston coming home from the tavern, so drunk he was unable to properly undress himself, expecting LeFou to wait on him hand and foot like he was a servant and not his husband. Gaston using him as a human scratching post to build up his ego when the entire world seemed hell bent on tearing him down…

He slid off the table, head hanging low – “Tell Gaston that I’m s-sorry… but the w-wedding is o-o-off.” And then, tears streaming down his cheeks, he raced out of the room.


End file.
